


Never Kiss and Tell (or Celebrity Courtship for Dummies)

by orphan_account



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Glee RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-20
Updated: 2011-02-20
Packaged: 2017-10-15 19:14:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/164080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remember that time Chris said he lost his virginity at a Scissor Sister's concert? Well this is how it could have gone if I was writing his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Kiss and Tell (or Celebrity Courtship for Dummies)

**Author's Note:**

> Lame title is lame. This can take place in the same verse as "Natural Born Grillers" if you want, but it stands alone and that one would come later anyway. So, uh, this is like two months late? I wrote it in December and decided it sucked, but then I found it again and decided it... still mostly sucked, but was good enough that I wouldn't feel like an asshole posting it so, here you go! Adam/Chris first time porn! Virginal!Chris! Competent and gentle!Adam! :D?
> 
> Betaed by bones_to_be (thanks, bb). All remaining mistakes belong to me.

It begins innocently enough, pun totally _totally_ intended. Before Chris can even slap himself across the face or die of humiliation, the moment’s gone, the cameras stop rolling, and by the time he makes his next awkward social blunder he’s already forgotten it.

Unfortunately, no one else does.

”So,” the interviewer (Rob? Or maybe it was Todd?) says, mouth curving up in this sly way that makes Chris want to run far far away. He tenses, and doesn’t realize it until his fingernails are digging into his palm and he has to command his body to relax. “Have you lost the big V yet?”

Chris blinks. “What?”

The jerk is still wearing that irritating smile and Chris feels dread crawling down his spine like ants. “You know. In that Scissor Sisters skit you mentioned...”

Chris wishes for a convenient hole to swallow him up and spit him out in a universe where he is not getting questioned about his virginity. Live.

Chris looks to the side to see his manager, Glenn, having a (silent) fit at someone who looks Very Important And In Charge, and Chris’s inner Chris is wailing about his mother probably watching this, and he pushes down this irrational (a little rational, the guy is a grade A jerk) urge to kick Rob-Todd in the shins and run away.

Instead, he swallows and says, “Ah, you know the operative word there is _skit_ , right?”

Rob-Todd nods good-naturedly, and Chris sighs, thinking he’s going to drop it.

No such luck.

“Yeah, but it was improvised, right? So come on, spill.”

Chris fumes, and says, quickly, “Well, my schedule’s pretty busy, with filming and everything, I don’t really have time to get out and date much. Um, we’re doing some really interesting things on _Glee_ right now.”

Rob-Todd shoots Chris another knowing smile, and Chris shudders. _Creep_ , he thinks. But he lets the topic go and they talk about Glee and Chris’s nominations and then the interview is over and both In Charge guy and Glenn are glaring at Rob-Todd, who is ignoring them both and getting _all_ up in Chris’s personal space.

“So,” Rob-Todd says, “do you wanna maybe grab a coffee?”

Chris feels his face go red, and he kind of leans back, trying to put space between them. He looks at Glenn kind of helplessly, and he gives one final furious look to In Charge guy and comes over to rescue Chris. “Sorry Romeo. Mr. Colfer has a previous engagement.” Then he propels Chris away with a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Er, nice to meet you...Todd,” Chris calls back with a wave.

Rob-Todd frowns. “It’s Rod,” he yells. But Chris is already outside.

“Oh my God,” he says, then keeps repeating it to himself while he gets into the car and down the road. “What was that!?” He finally yells when they’re down the road and probably no one but Glenn and the driver can see his nervous breakdown.

Glenn pats him on the back. He doesn’t say it’s okay because, well, obviously.

Chris sinks down in his seat and thinks about how completely fucked he is.

***

“Boy, you are _screwed_.”

Chris wishes people would stop saying variations of that. He’s kind of not, which is _the entire point_. “Am _berrrrr_ ,” Chris whines.

“No seriously, it’s like, what everybody and their gay friend is talking about. ‘When will Chris Colfer get laid? Who will lay him?’ It’d be hilarious if it was, you know, not you,” Amber says loyally.

“You’re totally laughing!” Chris shouts down the line. He can hear her stifle another snicker.

“Okay, so, here’s the thing. I’m pretty sure I heard Jenna and Lea talking about something called ‘Operation Get Chris Laid’ a little while ago.”

“Oh my God,” Chris says and feels around for the edge of the bed so he can sit down.

“I think they’re planning on setting you up with Jonathan.”

“Oh my _God_ ,” Chris moans and flops face first into the pillows, face burning. “I think I’m going to go drown myself in the toilet,” he says and hangs up on her startled yell. Glenn burst in a moment later, and Chris waves him away. He sort of hovers for another minute until Chris snaps, “I’m not going to drown myself in the toilet!” and really, he has no idea how his life came to this.

It goes on like this for a while. Chris keeps getting _hit on_ and he’d be really flattered if he didn’t just _know_ it was because all these guys wanted his V card. It’s weird and not sexy at all, especially when Katy keeps, like, texting him suggestively about Russel’s “bedside manner” and Chris can’t even tell if she’s joking or not.

Then--- _then_ \--there’s Adam. Adam Lambert, who calls him up out of the blue and asks if they can go get coffee (well, if he can get coffee to go and bring it to Chris at the studio since, as Adam bitches at length, RCA is still being totally unreasonable about the paparazzi thing in Florida, and that had been, like, months ago). Of course Chris stammers out an “okay, sure” like the biggest lamer that ever lamed. But Adam kind of just laughs over the line and the next day they spend an hour talking in the break-room.

Well...actually, Chris spends an hour stuttering and Adam spends an hour talking and smiling tolerantly while Chris stutters, but whatever, it counts. And Chris isn’t lying to himself, since he suspects Adam is also in it for the V card, but come on, it’s _Adam Lambert_. Adam never cares what suggestive thing he says in front of a million people. He just laughs or smiles mysteriously, and has probably never considered drowning himself in a toilet.

(“Actually,” he confesses one day when Chris brings it up, “I haven’t.” Chris sighs because of course not, but Adam goes on, “It was a punch bowl and I was _really_ embarrassed because-- _hey_ , you don’t get to laugh toilet boy!”)

And he keeps putting his arm around Chris, and like, stroking his arm and squeezing encouragingly, and whenever Chris is around him, he’s in a constant state of wishing for a keyboard to keyboardsmash his excitement on. He tries on his phone but you just can’t get the same effect without the semi-colons and random capslock.

Plus, Amber and Lea both threatened to confiscate it if he sent one more text with nothing but random letters.

Then Adam starts texting Chris [lame jokes](http://img815.imageshack.us/i/picture110.png/) and links to [fake motivational posters](http://img695.imageshack.us/i/funnymotivationalpostery.jpg/) and Chris keeps accidentally kicking people in the knees in his excitement every time he hears the opening bars of Fever. Chris isn’t precisely sure, because he’s never been wooed, but he thinks Adam might be wooing him in a weird celebrity way. It is so working, too.

“Am I being wooed?” he asks Lea, while they’re snuggling on the couch in the break room between taping sessions. Lea is a champion cuddler, for which Chris is eternally grateful. She never gouges him with her elbow or squirms at unfortunate times in unfortunate ways (ahem, Dianna).

Lea hums, attention on her phone where Chris can make out a conversation with Theo. “Le _aaaa_ ,” he whines, nudging her.

She flaps her hand on his chest in an absentminded pat. “I think he’s going to an awful lot of trouble just to get in your pants,” she comments idly, the “when you’d have put out the first day if he’d asked,” implied.

Lea is also a champion at saying things without saying anything, which Chris appreciates less than her powers of cuddle.

“That’s not an answer,” Chris points out sullenly. At least she’d stopped trying to drop Jonathan’s name in the conversation at every opportunity. He thinks that probably means she thought this thing with Adam was going somewhere.

Except, and Chris isn’t complaining or anything, but Adam hasn’t even kissed him yet. So either Adam is a perfect gentleman or he actually isn’t interested, and Chris feels like a bad person when he can’t decide which option is worse.

Mark and Cory and Kevin are even less help ( _no help_ ). They’d gotten twitchy when people had first begun pursuing Chris’s “virtue”, and now that Adam has been hanging out at the studio regularly, it’s only gotten worse. They’ve taken to glaring at him and keep interrupting their time in the break room for totally transparently fake reasons, like needing sugar when they all know Ryan carries around the sugar and holds it hostage as a reward for performing well. Chris is pretty sure they actually made a pact with Darren to beat up Adam if he didn’t “treat Chris right” which is pretty much confirmed when Adam says over the phone one night, “I think that short guy with the curly hair threatened to bite my kneecaps if I made you cry.”

“What?” Chris says blankly.

“Well, not in so many words. He kind of looked at me menacingly, and said ‘Don’t hurt him or you’ll be sorry.’ Well, whatever the menacing equivalent is for a hobbit.”

“Oh my God,” Chris whimpers. He is going to find Darren tomorrow and _beat him with a scooter_.

“I know, right? If I made you cry I’d bite my own kneecaps.”

Chris blushes and forgets about Darren’s impending justifiable homicide. He smiles into the phone. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” Adam says and Chris can hear his smile. Then his voice goes sly, “Also, the one with the mohawk is way scarier and he actually threatened to rearrange my face if I messed you up.” and Chris strangles on his tongue

“Just a second, Adam,” Chris puts him on hold and screams his utter humiliation and rage into a pillow. He will _beat all of them with a scooter._

“Do you want to have dinner on Saturday?” Chris asks abruptly when he switches back over. Adam doesn’t say anything. Chris takes a deep breath. In for a penny and all that. “Because I really like you, and I don’t know if all of this is some elaborate plan to court me before you seduce me or if you’re not interested at all, but I’m interested and if it’s the first one I’d really like to get to the seducing part of the program. I’m tired of waiting for you to kiss me, it’s stressing me out.”

Adam still doesn’t say anything, and Chris checks to make sure he hasn’t accidentally hung up on him because he doesn’t know if he has enough courage left over to call him back and say it again, and then Adam says. “I’ll pick you up at seven?” He sounds weirdly gentle, and it makes Chris’s stomach flip-flop.

Chris releases the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll see you later.”

“I’ll drop in tomorrow.”

“‘Kay.”

They say goodbye and Chris waffles for about five minutes before texting like twelve people, “Omg I have a date on sat. MARK & DARREN UR DEAD!!!!!!”

Amber’s “gl bb” is closely followed by Lea’s “Take condoms” and then “What?!” from Darren and a “:D dianna says yay” from Jenna and sullen silence from the rest of the guys. Chris turns off his phone and falls onto the bed, grinning stupidly. He falls asleep just like that.

The next day is Friday, and Chris’s good mood doesn’t even dissipate when his male co-stars glare _extra_ hard at Adam when he shows up with a mochaccino for Chris. Adam waves at them cheerfully. The girls wave back and tug the boys away to give them some privacy.

Chris stares into his coffee and looks up at Adam shyly through his lashes. “They’re just jealous they don’t have a hot guy bringing them awesome coffee on their breaks.”

Adam chuckles and Chris grins at him and they probably look crazy just standing there cheesing at each other, but Chris doesn’t care. “Um. Ryan wants to get this scene finished today, so I probably don’t have much time.”

Right on cue, they hear Ryan yelling for Chris. “I have to,” he says regretfully, gesturing lamely.

“Hold on,” Adam says and reaches out to grab the tie on Chris’s Dalton uniform. Chris doesn’t fight the gentle pull and lets Adam reel him in slowly. “Your tie’s crooked,” Adam explains, and Chris tries not to be disappointed.

“Oh,” he says.

But Adam just tugs the tie a little harder, tilting Chris’s head up and drops a soft, chaste kiss on his lips. The kiss doesn’t stay soft _or_ chaste for long; Chris parts his lips and Adam slips his tongue inside, curling it against Chris’s teeth. It only lasts for a moment, then Adam pulls back and rests their foreheads together. “I’m interested,” he murmurs simply. Then he lets Chris’s tie go and fixes it, smoothing the uniform down with a touch that’s everything but impersonal. “See you tomorrow,” Adam says, and walks away.

Chris walks back to the set on autopilot. Lea sees his expression and comes over, all soft concern and a light hand on his arm. “You okay, Chris?”

Chris stares at her for a long moment, then feels a wild smile break over his face. “I am _totally_ taking condoms tomorrow!” he crows, much too loudly. The boys collectively flinch and Cory yells, “Dude! TMI!”

Chris just laughs, and thank God it’s not a sad or dramatic scene because Chris doesn’t think he could pull it off when it feels like he’s floating on a cloud of happiness.

His good mood lasts until five thirty the next day, when he calls Amber in a full-blown panic. “Amber. Amber _I don’t have anything to wear_!” he wails, clothes littering his bedroom floor, the bed, and somehow the ceiling fan.

Ten minutes later he opens the door to find Dianna, Amber, Lea, and Jenna all toting various terrifying items.

“Oh my God, I don’t have time for a makeover, I have a date in like _five minutes_ ,” he flails, complete with crazy windmill arms.

The girls shove him out of the way. “You have like an hour and a half, don’t be a drama queen,” Jenna chastises. “Now sit down and shut up, an hour and a half is totally not even enough time.”

Chris doesn’t bother telling her that she doesn’t make any sense at all or that he’s glad he’ll never have to figure out what the hell girls ever mean when they say things _that you just said_ , he just sits down and shuts up.

An hour and twenty minutes later he looks in the floor length mirror in his tiny trailer bathroom with four girls crowded behind him bickering about bony elbows and says, “I look like a porn star.”

Dianna punches him in the arm and says, “Shut up you do not,” at the same time Lea allows, “Maybe softcore porn,” and then they’re arguing.

Jenna says, “You look sexy. Are you positive you’re gay?” and Chris snorts. Amber just reaches for his hand and squeezes it and smiles at him in the mirror. Chris gets inappropriately choked up at that and says “Thanks guys.”

Then it’s an exaggeratedly teary and completely humiliating round of “Our baby’s growing up so fast!”/”Shut up you weirdo, I’m _twenty_!”-fest. And then there is knocking on the door and Adam calling out a greeting. Chris looks at them, panicked, and says “Oh my God I can’t do this, tell him I’m sick!”

They’re not having any of that, and four sets of hands push Chris out the door of his trailer, into Adam’s arms. Literally.

“You all suck!” Chris yells to a chorus of giggles.

“You boys have fun!” someone sing-songs, probably Lea because she’s _evil_. “We won’t wait up!” and then another round of giggles explodes from the trailer.

Chris looks at Adam, really looks at him for the first time. He’s smiling widely. “You look nice,” he says.

“I look like a porn star,” Chris blurts out, and winces. “Sorry I mean, thanks. You too.”

Adam throws his head back and laughs, and Chris gets distracted by the movement of his throat. It’s a very nice throat. He wonders what it would taste like if he licked it.

“Come on, we have reservations.” Adam says, and grabs Chris’s hand to tug him along.

Chris lets himself be led, because Adam’s hand feels nice in his and he gets a little thrill when Adam opens the car door for him.

He doesn’t know where they’re going, since Adam refuses to tell him, but it doesn’t look like it’s in the city, so Chris sits back and watches the lights of downtown L.A. pass by his window. The ride is silent, but it’s a comfortable silence, like neither of them have anything really to say and that’s fine. Chris doesn’t feel like that with many people, and it’s nice.

They pull up in front of a big house and Adam turns off the car. It’s not a mansion, but pretty huge, and Chris frowns. Adam sees it and wrinkles his nose regretfully.

“Ah, I made the mistake of telling my manager about our date, and he kind of... _strongly suggested_ that I shouldn’t take you to a restaurant. They still don’t trust me around the paparazzi.” Adam clears his throat. “It’s not even a totally invalid fear, because if the paps got in my face tonight I’d probably punch them.”

Chris snickers. “It’s okay. A quiet night in sounds pretty wonderful.”

They get out and walk up the sidewalk, hands brushing every step and Chris is suddenly dizzy with how much he just _wants this_. Wants Adam.

And it’s not like they don’t intend to eat. Chris is pretty sure they both intend to eat, and Chris’s stomach is even growling a little because he’d been too nervous to eat all day. But then they get inside the door, and Adam flips the lights on and takes off his shoes, Chris following his lead and leaves them next to the door. Adam sets his keys down and they’re just looking at each other. All alone.

Chris is pretty sure he lunges first, but Adam doesn’t leave him hanging and their mouths are crashing together and there’s too much teeth, and too much tongue, and too tight a grip on his hair, but it’s _perfect_. Then he’s moving backwards and honestly can’t tell if Adam’s pushing him or he’s pulling Adam, but he goes down on the overstuffed leather sofa and Adam comes down on top of him, his thigh a sudden exquisite pressure against Chris’s cock.

Chris leaves his hands on Adam’s shoulders, mostly because he doesn’t know where else to put them, but Adam’s hands are busy, seemingly everywhere at once, tugging Chris’s shirt up under his armpits then stroking down his chest and belly with just a hint of fingernail and Chris shivers.

There are too many sensations; Adam’s thigh rubbing maddeningly over Chris’s groin, his hands taking Chris apart with a brush over his nipples or hip-bone, his tongue licking into Chris with slow, drugging kisses. He feels Adam tense, but doesn’t (can’t) process what that means until Adam is gone, out of Chris’s reach.

“Wha-?” he says dumbly.

Adam facing the door a few feet away, clenching his hands into fists then releasing them over and over. “I had a plan, you know,” he says tightly. “We were going to eat the special dinner I _hired_ a chef to prepare, then I was going to take you upstairs and take you apart so slowly and gently you’d be begging for it by the time I finally got inside you.”

He finally turns to face Chris and smiles dryly. “You were supposed to be a pay-it-forward project,” he said baldly. “My friend, Brad--big fan of yours by the way, he thinks you’re adorable--kept bitching about how there was like, this price on your virginity. Everyone wanted it, like it was some bounty or something and I thought that was really gross and...listen, I know what it’s like to be a twenty year old virgin--a twenty year old _gay_ virgin, and I wasn’t even a celebrity then, and I know it’s...hard. My first time was...it was hideous and if I could keep another kid from that, I thought I’d be doing the world a favor or something.”

“Adam--”

“No, shut up. I didn’t expect to like you. You’re like this...awkward kid most of the time, and you’re funny and you don’t care what the fuck you say or who you say it too, like the whole world is your best friend and it’s fucking captivating. It’s completely captivating, and I’ve never had anyone look at me like you look at me, like I’m just another awesome person you’re passing time with in the course of your awesome life. I’m not a networking contact, or an arm to be seen on, or a star, I’m just Adam, and...I don’t know. I just know I really want to keep bringing coffee to your big fucking studio and grab your ass in front of all your entire overprotective cast and I really really want to see what you’d look like naked.”

Chris struggles to his fee, and opens his mouth, but the words stick in his throat. “Um,” he garbles. _Brilliant, Chris_. Clears his throat. “We should probably start with the naked part first,” he says finally, and smiles. He feels it wobble on his face, and he is not going to cry, he’ll fall on his own sai swords first. His vision clears and Adam’s smiling kind of faintly, but it’s there and it’s real. “And I should probably tell you...” he begins, then bites his lip.

“Hmm?” Adam picks up his hand and laces their fingers together.

Chris lowers his voice even further and confesses, “I kind of hate mochaccinoes.”

Adam bursts into laughter, and Chris watches him patiently until he recovers. It takes a while. “You’re a dork,” Adam tells him fondly.

“Likewise,” Chris says easily, then Adam’s pulling him up the stairs and pushing him against the second door on the left, pressing them together from chest to hip. Adam traces Chris’s smile until it fades.

“Are you ready for this?” he asks seriously.

“Adam,” Chris says fully as seriously. “I swear to God I am ready.” He screws up his courage and blurts out before he can think better of it, “Now please fuck me.”

Adam turns the knob at Chris’s side and they fall into the dark bedroom, Adam crowding Chris back until he sits down hard on the edge of the bed. The freaking _massive_ bed. “This is a little intimidating,” he says, something like awe in his voice.

“It’s just a bed.” Adam says, mouth on Chris’s neck which is nice, but he’s still distracted.

“It’s a _gigantic_ bed! I think this bed is bigger than my bedroom,” Chris says. “Maybe my entire trailer.”

Adam huffs next to Chris’s ear and says, “Okay, if you’re still worried about the goddamn bed I’m doing something wrong.” Then he _drags_ Chris up and pushes him back into the mountain of pillows with a whoosh.

With Adam straddling his hips and looming over him like an incubus or something, Chris kind of does forget about the bed. Adam reaches over to turn on the tiny bedside lamp and a soft glow, just enough that their eyes don’t strain to see, suffuses the room. Then he pulls his shirt over his head and unhooks his tight as hell button-fly jeans with a quick jerk that makes Chris’s cock twitch.

“You are so hot,” he breathes. He reaches up to touch but hesitates, looking at Adam questioningly.

“You can touch me,” Adam reassures him. “You can always touch me. Anywhere you want.”

Chris lays his hand flat on Adam’s chest. He’s warm, and his chest hair is coarse, but weirdly soft at the same time. He slides it up to Adam’s neck and tugs him forward and Adam leans down obligingly to kiss him. Something low in Chris’s gut flutters and he pushes up into kiss, trying to get his whole body in on the contact and his erection brushes against  
Adam’s through their jeans and a shock of pleasure fizzles through him.

Adam pulls Chris’s shirt up and off, then moves down the bed, trailing his mouth down, leaving a tiny sucking kiss on Chris’s collarbone and another at his nipple and one more right under his navel. He unbuttons Chris’s jeans and unzips them agonizingly slowly and Chris holds his breath until he goes dizzy. Then Adam sits up and slips his hands inside, under Chris’s boxers to pull them gently down and off in one go.

Chris had always thought the staring adoringly at your naked lover thing would be hot, or at least romantic, but mostly it’s just awkward (for him) and he squirms, barely resisting the urge to cover himself. Adam’s eyes are dark and hungry and okay, _that’s_ hot, so Chris lies still, and watches Adam watch him.

And when Adam leans down and breathes on his cock, Chris can’t help it, he arches up, anything to get some contact. He _aches_. Adam’s hands come up to press his hips down firmly on the bed, and he gives the head a tiny lick that has Chris nearly swallowing his tongue.

“Oh my God,” he moans and for once it isn’t out of embarrassment, and then Adam _swallows his dick_ and Chris nearly comes then and there. “Nnnnngh,” he garbles and tries to thrust up into the _hot, wet, Jesus Christ_. He’s stuck, pinned and at Adam’s mercy. He clutches the duvet beneath his hands and holds on.

Adam pulls off with an obscene slurping sound, and grins. “D’you like getting sucked off, Chris?” he asks, like that’s even any kind of question at _all_.

“I-I-I-” Chris says, or tries to say, he’s totally wrecked already. He wants to ask Adam to please put his mouth back, but he doesn’t think he can manage polysyllabic words at the moment, let alone coherent sentences. So he kind of nods (he thinks, he hopes he nods) and when Adam obligingly swallows his cock again, he throws his head back and moans long and loud.

And having a throat contracting around one’s cock is pretty distracting, so Chris doesn’t really notice the thumb trailing down behind his balls until it strokes his perineum sharply and he chokes on a breath. Adam keeps up the firm massage just _there_ and continues to fuck his own throat on Chris’s cock and oh god, he’s going to come.

“Ada--Adam I’m--” Adam pulls off, and stays there, swollen red lips just parted around the tip. He slides his hand down and presses his thumb just inside Chris, whose breath hitches on the inhale and shudders on the exhale. It doesn’t hurt, it _doesn’t_ , but he can’t help how his body goes rigid anyway.

“Okay, Chris?” Adam rasps, voice devastated.

“Okay. Yes, okay,” Chris lies. He’s scared. He’s used his own fingers before, but this is an entirely different ball game. This is like pro-baseball when he’s only ever played t-ball. He can feel his heartbeat speeding up with his breathing, and he’s mentally beating his own ass with a baseball bat (keeping with the theme, he thinks hysterically) when Adam pulls his thumb out, and moves it up to grasp his hip instead with a squeeze that’s probably meant to be comforting. Then he scoots up the bed and kisses Chris.

Chris relaxes into it after a moment, because this is kissing and this is Adam, and he likes kissing and Adam, and he especially likes kissing Adam, and he raises his arms up to wrap around Adam’s neck and pull him closer. Adam seems content just to make out for the moment, and when he does finally pull back, Chris chases his mouth.

“I meant it you know. If you’re not ready, there’s no pressure, no consequences. Alright?”

Chris nods. “I want it. I do, I was just... can you go slower?”

“Of course.” Adam drops a kiss on Chris’s nose. “Would it help if I was naked too?”

“How could that possibly not help?” Chris sputters..

Adam looks him a quick smile and gets up to shuck his pants.

Chris admires the sight until he comes to Adam’s erect cock. His very impressive erect cock. He swallows. “Well you’re certainly not overcompensating for anything,” he jokes weakly.

Adam snickers and retrieves the supplies they’ll need from the nightstand, then dives back into the bed, and wastes no time at all getting between Chris’s spread legs. He turns his head and kisses the smooth skin of Chris’s inner thigh, before maneuvering it to a more convenient position over his shoulder. There’s a muffled ‘snick’ and then Adam’s cool-slick fingers are tracing his crack. Adam licks a stripe up Chris’s cock and uses the momentary distraction to slip one finger inside. Chris freezes.

It feels strange. Kind of...squishy. He wriggles a bit, and the finger slides in further and he gasps. True to his word, Adam goes slowly getting him used to the feeling, and when the second finger goes in beside the first, Chris rocks his hips a little.

“How is it?” Adam asks.

“Kind of...strange,” he says, and doesn’t know why his voice sounds strangled. Adam sucks Chris’s dick into his mouth again and Chris yelps. Adam scissors his fingers, crooks them a littl, and then Chris can’t breathe because Adam found that thing, that place that _never_ felt like that when Chris was doing this. His whole body _bucks_ , and he couldn’t have stopped it if he tried. Adam chokes a little and shoots Chris a dirty look.

“Sorry,” he pants. “That was. It was,” Adam crooks his fingers again and Chris loses all interest in speech, and shifts down on Adam’s fingers, his heel digging into Adam’s back for leverage. Adam adds another, and Chris feels the burn and stretch, but it’s negligible compared to the almost electric bolt of pleasure that shoots through his entire body with every glancing touch on his prostate.

Adam sits back and watches Chris fuck himself on his fingers, eyes heavy lidded, and Chris doesn’t even have the presence of mind to be embarrassed, the pleasure filling up his whole world. When Adam pulls his fingers out, Chris sobs, high and protesting.

“Fuck, Chris,” Adam say, cursing and flailing for something--the condom. Chris is distantly satisfied that Adam seems to be as caught up as he is, but mostly he just wants Adam to hurry. He can’t stop squirming on the bed because he can’t keep his hips still and his fingers are making claws in the duvet. He watches Adam smooth on the condom with shaky hands and want him wants him _wants him_. Chris lets his legs fall open wider, begging for it, “Please, Adam--” until Adam’s pushing his legs back, folding him in half and lining up his cock and pushing in and _in_.

It hurts, and Chris sobs around it, gasps through it because he doesn’t know what he needs, but he _needs_ , and Adam’s rocking in slowly, carefully, panting and shuddering, head hanging low and eyes squeezed shut. Chris raises his hands to scrabble for purchase on Adam’s shoulder and pull him down into a kiss. It’s messy, barely a proper kiss at all, but he needs Adam’s mouth on his or he’ll explode.

Adam bottoms out and holds still, breath harsh against Chris’s mouth, and Chris sighs into it, letting the burn fade into this insistent urge to move.

“Chris,” Adam’s voice breaks, and he rests his forehead against Chris’s and Chris has to swallow around the lump inside his chest before he can speak.

“You’re inside me,” he says, kind of in awe, kind of in disbelief. Adam shudders. “I think I can feel you in my throat, I can’t--” he rocks his hips experimentally and gasps at the sensations that sends radiating through him.

Adam groans. “It just fucking figures you’re a natural dirty talker.”

Chris hiccups a laugh that dissolves into a moan because even that tiny shift is almost unbearable when he has to hold still. “Adam I appreciate your consideration, but if you don’t _move_ I’m going to start kicking and I’m very flexible so I can probably reach your he- _ead_ ,” he cries out the last as Adam thrusts once, sharply, and Chris’s ears start ringing because holy hell, that felt good.

Adam doesn’t stop after that, but he does grope for Chris’s hand and press it into the bed, their fingers tangled together, and Chris can’t focus on more than the cock filling him up and he doesn’t know how long it lasts, but he knows the pleasure is so intense it’s nearly pain, and his thighs burn, and his lungs burn, and his hair follicles burn, and he needs, he wants, he _can’t_ , he doesn’t _know_.

But Adam does, and his breathing is harsh and his eyes are dark and mouth is pulled up in this grimace and Chris has never seen anything hotter, ever, and then Adam reaches between them and all it takes is one touch and Chris is coming and coming, his whole body spasming with the force of his orgasm, and he feels Adam still fucking him through it, prolonging it with every pass over his over-sensitive prostate, and then he can’t anymore, it’s too much and he sobs and Adam goes rigid, all but his hips that are jerking without rhythm and then he collapses on top of Chris with a choked sigh. Chris’s legs slide, down, and he probably couldn’t walk on them if he tried. They feel like jelly. He pants, and Adam is kind of heavy, but it doesn’t matter. He lifts his weak arms to wrap around him and doesn’t let go. He can’t, he’s shaking and he doesn’t know why.

“Shh, come on now.” Adam says, pulling Chris’s arms away so he can raise up and look. “Are you okay?”

Chris’s voice sounds choked to his own ears. “Yeah I’m. It was awesome,” he says helplessly. “I couldn’t have...you’re,” he huffs impatiently. “It seems rude to say thank you and it seems rude to not,” he says bluntly.

Adam looks fucked out and lazy and just rolls over onto his side and lifts an eyebrow. He doesn’t say anything as he takes care of the condom while Chris just lies there, tense, not sure what exactly he’s waiting for. He’s reasonably sure Adam won’t kick him out of bed.

“So,” Adam says finally. “How about that dinner I promised?”

Chris feels the smile breaking across his face, and right on schedule his stomach makes an angry sound. “I think that’s probably a good idea.”

Adam crawls on the bed and kisses his nose. “Is that going to be a thing?” Chris asks dubiously.

“What?”

“The nose kissing thing?”

“Do you mind?” Adam seems genuinely curious, and not offended, thank God.

Chris thinks about it. “I guess not.” Adam rolls his eyes and pulls him out of the bed by the hand. “Ah, do you have a robe?“

Adam grins wickedly and looks Chris up and down. “I don’t know. I kinda like the view.” He laughs when Chris blushes.

He does eventually find Chris a ludicrously huge robe, and they eat the now-cold gourmet meal. Afterward Adam fucks him again, slower, and they fall asleep tangled together. Chris was wrong; Adam is totally the best cuddler.

Chris doesn’t make it home until around noon the next day. His clothes are wrecked, and from the brief look he’d got of himself in the bathroom mirror, he looks well and truly _fucked_.

Adam leans over the console and Chris pecks him on the lips. Adam doesn’t give him a chance to leave it there, just brings his hands up to grip the back of Chris’s head and hold him there while he kisses him deeply. Chris sighs, and melts into the kiss, and only then does Adam let him go, with a grin. “See you later?”

Chris gets out and grins back. “No mochaccinoes!” he says and swings the door closed. With a quick double tap on the horn, Adam’s gone and Chris is left in the middle of the parking lot, smiling so big it almost hurts.

He only sees Amber on the way back to his trailer, and she gives a low whistle. “Damn, you are a _mess_!”

“Yeah,” Chris sighs dreamily. “I kind of am.”

 **Coda**

 _Interviewer: So any developments on the Big V Situation yet?_

 _Chris Colfer: [laughs] Hasn’t anyone ever told you a gentleman never kisses and tells?_


End file.
